


TOKIO LIAR

by xLightningToki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Platonic Life Partners, Post-Canon, Songfic, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20355865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLightningToki/pseuds/xLightningToki
Summary: They stood beside one another, two lonely boys on a snowy hill in the silence, cheeks flushed from the cold. They were as different as night and day—one with unruly ebony locks and sharp emerald eyes, and another with platinum blond curls and sparkling silver eyes—but their heartstrings were intertwined in an intricate and everlasting knot, protecting them from boos and the people too compliant with their pride to recognize the separation of students into elites and losers.※※※Based off of the song『TOKIO LIAR』by Kami-sama, I Have Noticed.





	TOKIO LIAR

**Author's Note:**

> This story is slightly based off of the song[『TOKIO LIAR』](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHpWIGU7mB8)by Kami-sama, I Have Noticed. (No, this story has nothing to do with Tōkyō.)
> 
> The relationship between Albus and Scorpius can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic—whichever you prefer.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own _Harry Potter_ or any of its elements whatsoever, just this story.  
※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

Albus Severus Potter and Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy were always considered as outcasts.

Honestly, it couldn’t be helped. One was the middle child of the ever-famous Boy Who Lived, but was seemingly the only Potter “unfortunate” enough to land in the house of snakes with a lack of confidence that severely hindered his magical capabilities until his fourth year at Hogwarts. The other was the only child of a defected Death Eater and a noblewoman who had succumbed to a blood curse, constantly surrounded by vicious rumors of being the spawn of Voldemort, the Wizarding World’s equivalent of the Devil. (Ironically, it was Delphini who ended up being Voldemort’s child, and she had caused enough grief for the two boys in such a short amount of time.)

The misery that the boys faced together at school was great: venomous taunts thrown at their direction by their peers, vandalized trunks, and snickers and jeers behind their backs. Yet they clung to the idea that it was better to be bullied together than worshipped alone, for what friendship in Hogwarts was more beautiful than the one that they shared?

It was just _such_ a pity that no one seemed to realize how awful school was treating them.

James Sirius and Lily Luna, bless them, relished in Harry Potter’s popularity, soaking it like sponges with their charm and grace. Albus, the self-acclaimed leftover, sulked over the sheer shallowness of his fellow students, with only Scorpius for company. Once they had stuck out in the crowd (first for being undesirable and later for saving the world), they couldn’t go back to their quiet childhoods—they might have as well grabbed their happiness tickets and ran for it.

Since when did true justice exist in Hogwarts? To Albus, the corridors were detestable from corner to corner, and the pressure of being Harry Potter’s son was absolutely suffocating, so he had felt complied to redress the past rather than contribute something to the future, thank you very much. (Naturally, that failed, but at least no one hated his guts anymore.)

Eventually, Albus could barely stand his newly acquired fame (people were whispering his and Scorpius’s names left and right), so one dreary weekend morning in the Slytherin dormitory, he crept to Scorpius’s bed—whose inhabitant was snoozing away in his silk pajamas—and shook the blond boy’s shoulder, hissing in his ear, “Psst!”

Now, no one enjoys having someone hissing to you like a snake in your ear, so understandably, Scorpius jolted under his covers and released an oh-so-manly squeak before opening his eyes wide.

“Gah!” He grabbed the hem of his shirt, breathing heavily. “What the heck was that for, Albus? It’s too early for this!”

“I thought you were Malfoy the Unanxious,” Albus teased, throwing off the blankets to Scorpius’s dismay. “Good morning to you, too, Sleeping Beauty. Now get up.”

“I _am_ Malfoy the Unanxious,” Scorpius grumbled, fumbling around for his robes, “just not in this godforsaken hour.” He furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose upon noticing Albus’s frightening Cheshire grin. “You know, I don’t like that look in your eyes, because whenever you have it, something bad is bound to happen.”

“Ye of little faith,” replied Albus, resting his hands on his hips. “Dress up quickly and then we’ll head off for breakfast. I’ve been thinking of something for a while.”

“And that is…?” Scorpius trailed off, wrapping his robe snugly around his body while remaining seated on his mattress. This had better be a good plan, or else the duo would one day test Headmistress McGonagall’s luck and get expelled.

His friend pounced with all four limbs onto the bed, trapping Scorpius with his arms. Then, with glittering eyes with a gaze of which Scorpius couldn’t escape, he announced, “I want out.”

And of course this guy would think of something reckless out of the blue.

“Out,” the blond repeated skeptically. “Out as in _outside_, right? But I thought that the headmistress forbade us from going to Hogsmeade.”

“Yeah, as long as she doesn’t _catch_ us.” Then, with a flourish, the brunet waved a glimmering, silky silver cloth that he had hidden in his left fist in front of his friend, whose jaws dropped.

He pointed accusingly at the Invisibility Cloak. “Where—”

“Snagged it from James again,” said Albus rather triumphantly. “You know how easy it is to steal from him. And McGonagall doesn’t plan on using the Marauder’s Map any time soon, thank goodness, so it’s all the more convenient for us to escape this stuffy place. What do you say?” He backed away from Scorpius, only to draw out his empty hand invitingly. “Want to get out of here?”

Scorpius hesitated. For four years, he had withstood Albus’s schemes and managed to survive each one, including the incident in which the two accidentally erased Albus from existence. To be frank, he was also getting tired of being cooped inside the castle walls. After all, a little extra bit of fresh air never hurt anyone.

Besides, nothing could harm him so long as Albus was by his side.

Abandoning his previous insecurities, he firmly clasped Albus’s hand. “Let’s.”

* * *

Half an hour later, swathed in thick coats, hats and scarves and shielded from prying eyes by the cloak, the boys were sprinting across the rickety roads of Hogsmeade like a pair of wild dogs.

They inhaled the crisp winter air as if it were the sweet perfume of spring flowers, and danced merrily in the snow within the crowd, their footprints continuously trashed by those of pedestrians. They threw snowballs at unsuspecting students from far away (who hastily attempted to track down the culprits that drenched their coats), and once their arms grew tired, Scorpius spotted a group of abandoned cats (luckily, none of them resembled McGonagall’s Animagus form) on the street and began petting them, wondering how such innocent creatures could attract unhappiness like some superstitions had claimed.

Occasionally, they passed by pubs, whose tables were littered with foaming mugs of Butterbeer and the occasional candy wrapper. It wasn’t unexpected, really; Hogsmeade was quite famous for its butterbeer and sweets.

(Albus also had to drag Scorpius away from Honeydukes before the latter could spend his fortune away on sugar. Scorpius would probably never forgive Albus for that; what git would deprive someone of _candy_?)

When they had enough fooling around, the pair scurried to a nearby hill surrounded by gnarly trees, giggling until they nearly lost their breath. At this point, they were too far from the shops to be heard or seen from anyone, so Albus flung off the Invisibility Cloak from his shoulders and whooped without a care in the world.

Scorpius, ever the cautious one, seized his friend’s shoulders and shushed him. “What if someone heard you?” he fretted urgently.

“Relax, Scorp. No one’s going to find us _here_.” The green-eyed boy gestured at the thick trees and mountains of snow as if to prove a point.

Scorpius raised a thin eyebrow. “If you say so, _Al_,” he drawled.

Albus punched him lightly on the arm but still sported a grin. “Don’t call me that.”

They stood beside one another, two lonely boys on a snowy hill in the silence, cheeks flushed from the cold. They were as different as night and day—one with unruly ebony locks and sharp emerald eyes, and another with platinum blond curls and sparkling silver eyes—but their heartstrings were intertwined in an intricate and everlasting knot, protecting them from boos and the people too compliant with their pride to recognize the separation of students into elites and losers.

The situation was pretty ludicrous, but it fit the boys quite well. To think that they once believed in rewriting history to give themselves a future… Now they proved that even Slytherins could become heroes and _change_ the future.

Albus cut the silence by whispering, “I have this strong urge to shout at the sky again—release my feelings and whatnot. They’ve been pent up inside me for a while, I think.”

_ But someone might hear you,_ Scorpius didn’t say. “You’re usually not this sappy,” he joked instead.

“Good observation,” Albus quipped back dryly. “Ten points to Slytherin.” Scorpius laughed in spite of this.

_ There he goes again, all dry humor and Albus-y._ And Scorpius still loved it.

“Tell you what,” he began, and he really couldn’t believe what he was saying next: “I’ll shout out my feelings like a banshee, too, if you do it first.”

Albus stared at Scorpius as if the blond had grown another head. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope! And you better do it now before I change my mind, because I am never suggesting it again.” It might have actually been a white lie, but it was satisfying seeing Albus squirm.

Grumbling, the black-haired adolescent faced the gray, cloudy sky and cupped his hands around his mouth. With vigor, he screamed into the air:

“I’M HAVING THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE, AND NOT EVEN TOAD-FACE CAN DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT!”

Scorpius nearly choked on a guffaw, briefly wondering if Dolores Umbridge was rolling around in her prison cell in a rage. Harry must have told Albus about Umbridge’s brief reign of terror at Hogwarts, and the celebrity’s pleasure of Umbridge’s sacking was probably contagious.

Albus flashed his pearly white teeth and stepped back so that Scorpius could have his turn. The young nobleman took a deep breath and cupped his hands, and suddenly words were spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

“I’M HAVING MUCH MORE FUN THAN LODGING IN THE LIBRARY LIKE A GEEK BECAUSE ALBUS IS WITH ME, AND WE’RE GOING TO STAY AS BEST FRIENDS FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER!”

…Well, that was incredibly cheesy.

Albus snickered as Scorpius joined his side again, but those green orbs twinkled with warmth that could melt ice. Scorpius simpered cheekily, leaning against Albus’s arm. Although the boys continued to relentlessly jab witticisms at each other for hours on end, they could understand the depth hidden beneath their words.

“Did you have to emphasize it that much?” _Did you really mean what you said?_

“Ya-huh!” _Of course I did._

They had barely realized that the snowfall had already ceased when they gazed upwards, watching the clouds part away to allow golden light to seep through the misty cracks. The world had become tranquil again, and Mother Nature was busy sweeping away all of the bitterness that originally plagued the boys’ minds.

Noting that the sky was tinted soft cotton pink instead of its usual vibrant blue, Scorpius asked, “Shall we head back?”

“Yeah.”

Blanketed in the Invisibility Cloak, Albus Severus Potter and Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy draped their arms around each other before marching down the hill. As they headed toward the majestic Scottish castle that would be their home for the next three years, the pouring sunlight reflected the shimmering snow in their hair as if to bade them adieu.

If those boys were living in a society that tried to crush or idolize them, they at least still had the power to build a kingdom together to call their own.


End file.
